Wisconsin Journal Number 23 5 April 1998 We had so much fun at the Kohler factory that Kaye suggested we check out the GM plant in Janesville. It's a huge plant, 3.5 million square feet, with 3 assembly lines. Two of them make trucks and Bluebird bus frames, but the line we saw makes Chevy Suburbans and similar light trucks, at the rate of one every 67 seconds. The Janesville facility was built by GM in 1919 as the Sampson Tractor Plant, and started making trucks as well the next year. In 1922 they started making Chevrolet passenger cars there. Production of passenger cars dropped during the depression, with none at all made at Janesville in 1933 (though factory workers did build some cars at the Chicago World's Fair). During WWII the body shop made howitzer shells and the assembly plant made replacement parts. Regular production resumed in 1945, and by 1959 the plant had produced its 4 millionth vehicle. Passenger car assembly stopped in 1990 (they were making Cavaliers then) and the next year production of Suburbans started. Some parts of the plant look like they date to 1919, with floors made of brick. A few overall comments on the Suburban line. Janesville is an assembly plant, so all the parts are made elsewhere, and come to the plant by truck and rail. A Suburban has 7000 parts, which come from 1800 suppliers. The assembly line is 31 miles long, and it takes a Suburban 20 hours to move through it. The line runs for two 10-hour shifts a day, followed by a 4-hour clean-up and maintenance shift, 4 days a week. The plant has three floors, but we got to see only the first floor. The upper floors, I think, are mainly devoted to body prep and painting. The Suburban, though mostly bought as a family car, is still put together like a truck, with a chassis separate from the body. Thus there are two main parts to the line, which merge near the end of the assembly process. There is very little inventory of parts on site. Basically, enough parts for one shift arrive at one time by train or truck (which is why a transportation or supplier strike causes production to cease fairly quickly). Each shift a train of 50 cars pulls right into the plant, and a cavalry of forklifts unloads them and routes the parts to the appropriate assembly stations. There is very little slack in the assembly line---I saw a few "buffers" in the line, but they seemed to hold only 6-10 trucks. Thus if there is a problem anywhere on the line, production will shut down on the whole line in 6-10 minutes. However, the line is duplexed, with two of each kind of tool or machine used in the process. We also saw some machine shops right by the assembly lines, which are ready to do immediate repairs on the assembly equipment. We didn't see the line in order of assembly, so what I describe is actually in a different order than how I saw it. Upon entering the plant, a couple things impressed us right away. I had expected it to be noisy, hectic and dirty. It is actually relatively quiet, as there isn't any forging or stamping going on. The pace of work was not rushed--nobody seemed to be struggling to do his or her job in time. I think groups of four workers cover a set of jobs, and any one can rotate out for a break or lunch. There's not much mess because nearly everything that comes into the factory is either a part going on a truck or a reusable container or rack for parts. About the only thing I saw being thrown away were protective coverings for parts. Most of the plant smells like--not surprisingly--a new car. What impressed us after we had seen some of the plant is the incredible choreography to get all the correct parts at the right assembly station at the right time. All the options are listed on large printouts that accompany each major assembly, but the chassis, engine, body and dashboard all start at different places, and there is no leeway for reordering items as they come together. (If somehow the wrong color body gets matched up with a chassis, they assemble it anyway, and let the dealer work it out.) I think the main structural elements of the frame arrive already welded together and painted. They get suspension, axles, gas tank, exhaust system, and various electrical and fluid lines added. At one point, the whole frame is flipped over, so that most of the work can be done from above. We saw only one station where someone was actually in a pit below the line working on a chassis overhead. At this point, the engine-transmission unit arrives from the floor above and is set into the chassis. (We didn't get to see engines assembled.) Then the radiator and tires go on. One of the coolest tools we saw was this device about the size of a commercial floor polisher that could tighten all six nuts on a wheel at once. Meanwhile, elsewhere in the plant bodies are being welded together from galvanized panels. Most of the welding is done by robots, which sometimes sent impressive plumes of sparks arcing over our heads. (You have to wear safety glasses for that part.) The bodyworks is set up as two long conveyors going opposite directions, with a special lifter to transfer partially complete bodies from one side to the other. At one point in the process the partially completed bodies are lifted off the line, and have their shape and spotwelds checked by an array of lasers. There are extra welds designed in, so a certain percent can be bad. There also can be some touch-up bead welding by hand, but if a body is too far out of spec, it is lifted off the line. Inspectors then take it and tear it apart with pneumatic chisels to see what else they can learn about problems on the line. The station that welds on door hinges throws off an especially impressive amount of sparks. Eventually, the body is finished, with side and back doors attached, and front fenders and hood riding on the same pallet. The completed bodies disappear through the ceiling to the paint shop, and re-emerge elsewhere in the factory in an array of colors. The doors are then removed, and head off down a parallel line (as do the hood and fenders), to be reunited with the body later in the process. Looking at bodies going up and down overhead, and snaking around tight curves, reminded me of a carnival ride. Once painted, there is a lot of work to do on the body. Dashboards begin on a separate line, and get instruments, radios and gloveboxes before being mounted in the body. Most of the upholstery, the headliner and interior attachments (such as sun visors and dome lights) go in before the seats are inserted or the doors reattached. There is thus quite a bit of leeway to get in and out of the car, and at one station a worker sits in a carseat mounted on a big J-shaped beam that lets him or her slip inside of the body without ever standing up. I'm not sure at what point the glass goes on--we didn't see that. Once most of the work is done on the bodies, they are mated to the frames. At this point, the trucks are mostly done. Various connections have to be made between the body and the engine compartment, and they get various fluids and 3 gallons of gas. The batteries go in, and the fenders and hood go on. There is still a little assembly work on the front, such as turn signals. The workers who install the signals ride on little wheeled stools that get pushed along ahead of the trucks. Many of the assembly tools are made to easily move along with the trucks as they inch down the line. For example, the device that installs the rubber molding clamps to the side of each truck with suction cups, flips the molding into place (glue has already been applied to the side of the truck) and a roller then scoots along a track pressing it on tightly. The suction cups let go, and the workers slide it back to the next truck. Somewhere near the end of the line the price sticker goes on. Kaye and I had noticed that there was one particularly ugly dull green color for some of the trucks, which we couldn't imagine anyone would order. However, once the stickers were on, we understood. Instead of listing the base price and options, there was just a big "GSA" on the sticker. So they were government vehicles, maybe destined for the Forest Service or BLM. With any luck, after the horn is tested, the truck will start up as it reaches the end of the line. If so, it is given a brief "road test", which seems to involve driving it over three bumps in the floor and onto a vibrating platfrom. The point here is to find and fix any annoying rattles or squeaks. If all is well, it is driven out of the factory onto waiting trucks or train cars. If there is a problem, it is driven (or pushed) over to one of the repair bays. The repair bays are on 12-hour shifts, 7 days a week, and there is a storage lot of trucks outside awaiting repairs as well. Who knows--maybe we saw a Suburban being made that one of you will buy. >From the GM plant, we drove into downtown Janesville (a bit bleak) for lunch, and stopped in at the historical society after, which is located in an old armory. There was a travelling exhibit called "What Ever Happened to Dick and Jane." Those of you who learned to read in the US in the 40s, 50s and 60s surely remember Scott-Foresman readers with Dick, Jane, Sally, Spot and Puff. (And Tim. Who was Tim?*) The exhibit had a lot of original artwork, along with photos of children and pets on whom the characters in the book were based. Most of the illustrations on display were by Eleanor Campbell (early 50s) and Bob Childress (early 60s). While many stories were carried over from one edition to the next, the pictures were updated to keep fashions and cars from looking dated. You could also note that the kids got cuter over the years. Sometimes a story was dropped or significantly changed if it contained an element that had become unfamiliar to children, such as an outdoor clothesline. William Gray oversaw the series through its lifetime. Dick and Jane first appeared in the "Elson Basic Readers" in the 1930s. The Elson-Gray Pre-Primer (65 words) and Primer (80 words) were added later. An innovation in the 40s were the "Pre-Readers", which contained stories in the form of picture sequences. The idea was to make sure that kids knew the vocabulary before having to read it, and understood how to guess a story line from the pictures. The Dick and Jane books were a radical departure from early primers, which used complete sentences and did not try to limit their vocabulary to words that children would likely know. "Fun With Dick and Jane" starts out with sentence fragments. Every new word in the series is used 10 times in the book that introduces it, and at least 5 times in the next book. Each book came with a teacher guide, explaining the subtler nuances of each story, and a workbook for students. In 1965 the "Multi-ethnic" series came out, which introduced 32 different ethnic groups by the time you got to the last book. Dick and Jane retired in 1971, and live in adjoining cottages in Upper Michigan. Bits and Pieces: Kaye stopped off in the town of Milton on a trip she took recently. Milton College, which stopped operating as a school in the 70s, now has many of the campus buildings converted to antique malls. Kaye says the one in the old gym is best. Seen on a truck in Madison: Hernia Movers. The local grocery store (Ken Kopps) had free corned-beef sandwiches and beer on St. Patrick's Day. Kaye went over in the afternoon to get a taste, and reported that the beer was non-alcoholic. I thought non-alcholic beer was illegal in Wisconsin, like yellow margarine. I've finally seen an Indian mound that is recgonizable as such. It's in the middle of a traffic circle a few blocks from our house, and appears to have two legs, and a big eye (or maybe a pair of jaws meeting). No comment: Packers nail polish; Packers Nutcracker Christmas ornament; Packers toothbrush. The kids are on break now; off to Chicago tomorrow! Dave *Tim was Sally's Teddy bear. Powered by myyfind